


Weapons Training

by st_mick



Series: Niffler [52]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Curious Jack, Distracted Ianto, Distracting Jack, Ianto's past popping up again, Weapons Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 11:21:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: Jack has continued training Ianto, and now it's time for weapons training, so Ianto can decide what he will carry, when armed in the field.  Various forms of tension arise...





	Weapons Training

The month of February passed quickly, and Jack was not the only one to notice that Ianto was feeling better. The Imbolc ceremony had reinforced the recovery that the potions and the new project at Flat Holm had begun. Ianto was still in mourning, but it was no longer consuming him. 

He was relieved when the last camera was finally taken down. He was tired of Cerridwen living in the Ministry flat. On another happy note, the Ministry was able to give up the flat, as well. Ianto felt like he was slowly getting his life back.

Jack continued with his hand-to-hand training, and late in the month he even managed to get Ianto onto the firing range to qualify with a handgun. The experience had been eye opening, for both men.

Jack had laid out a series of guns for Ianto to try, so he could decide what his weapon of choice would be, should he be called out into the field. “We have a few choices here. Let’s see what you’re most comfortable with. Do you know which is which?”

“Yes, Sir,” Ianto replied. “I qualified on the Beretta 92F/FS at T1.”

Jack nodded. “Good weapon. We can get you one, if that’s your preference.”

“I’ve soured on the Beretta, funnily enough.” A bead of sweat formed on Ianto’s brow at the oblique reference to the Battle of Canary Wharf. He swiped it away and huffed. “Silly, really. Not the gun’s fault,” muttered.

Jack winced. He wondered whether it was Cybermen or Daleks that the weapon had proved ineffectual against.

“Both,” Ianto muttered.

“What?”

“You were wondering very loudly,” Ianto turned to the table, wanting to change the subject. “So why doesn’t Torchwood Three have a standard issue weapon?”

“Gun choice can be a very personal thing,” Jack answered, his hand going to his own unusual selection, the Webley Mk IV. “If you don’t like anything here, we can order in some others, to try.”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Sir,” Ianto replied. “After all, I won’t be in the field that much, and presumably it will be even more rare for me to be armed with something other than a stun gun, in the field. I’m sure I can find something suitable from this lot.”

Jack shrugged, curious about Ianto’s reluctance, but willing to let it go, for now. “Okay. I assume the Beretta is out,” He pulled aside the 92F/FS when Ianto nodded. “Tell me what the others are.”

“M1911, both compact and sub-compact,” Ianto pointed to the first two. “Walther P99, SIG-Sauer P226, Glock 19, Glock 23,” Ianto hesitated, picking up the last. “Haven’t seen this one before, actually.”

“Good eye. SIG P320 Nitron Compact.” Jack smiled. “Sexy gun.”

Ianto refrained from making a face, then he sighed. He wanted his bloody wand back, and it was making him cranky as hell.

“Go on, then,” Jack nodded. “They’re all ready to go.”

Ianto put on the protective equipment, picked up the M1911 compact, and stepped up to the line, his body facing the targets at a slight angle. He assumed the Weaver Stance, with his left foot forward. The left knee was slightly flexed, and three quarters of his weight was on that leg. He held the gun in his right hand, that arm extended with the right hand cradled in the left, the left arm bent to support his gun arm.

“Aggressive stance,” Jack noted.

“It’s how I learned,” Ianto replied, emptying the clip on the first target.

“Good grouping,” Jack was surprised Ianto was such a good shot. He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Ianto had brought in his personnel file – the undoctored one – and Jack had been pleased that the younger man had not attempted to change anything in it. His firearms qualification certification, for instance, had noted that he was a mediocre shot, but had been trained in technique before he joined Torchwood. 

Jack had chuckled, because the note had practically pouted that Ianto had not revealed where he had received his initial firearms training. Now Jack was beginning to realize that Ianto had been hiding his abilities, at T1.

“You were holding back, when you certified,” he said.

Ianto released the clip and set down the gun. He picked up the next, the M1911 sub-compact and said, “You asked me to stop lying. I’m doing the best I can.” He emptied the clip in the next target, with even better accuracy and a tighter grouping.

“Where did you learn to shoot, if not at T1?”

Ianto once again released the clip and set it and the gun on the table. He turned and looked at Jack, his eyes sad. “I’d rather not say, Sir. It was a long time ago, and it’s not relevant to Torchwood.”

“Mis-spent youth?” Jack asked ironically.

Ianto stepped back, his mouth falling open and his eyes flaring wide. “Sir?”

Jack frowned. “It’s something you said, when I asked about your scars,” he said, wondering why Ianto looked so startled.

Ianto took a breath to steady himself. “Oh.” He blinked. “Oh. Of course, Sir. I apologize. I just… I don’t remember saying that to you.”

“You’d had a pretty bad day,” Jack said. It was a harmless enough deflection, but Ianto clearly kept track of who he told it to. 

Interesting.

It was an old conman trick, tracking the lies. But he didn’t get the impression that this was the case, here. He had become well-enough acquainted with Ianto Jones to be willing to bet the man kept track of every lie he told his friends, so he could beat himself up about it.

“Hey,” he reached out and rubbed his hand up and down Ianto’s arm. “It’s all right, you know, to want to keep some things to yourself. Especially if they don’t pertain to Torchwood. You don’t have to tell me. I am surprised that they didn’t pursue the question at One, though.”

“I believe they would have, if I hadn’t been such a crap shot.”

Jack chuckled. 

Ianto moved on to try out the two Glocks and the SIG P266. He set aside the Glock 23 to try again. The last he tried was the SIG P320. After emptying the clip, he looked at Jack, grinning.

“I think we have a winner,” Jack laughed. Ianto’s aim was dead on, and the grouping was the tightest yet. “Go ahead and reload. I want to show you two more stances.”

Ianto did as he was asked, then approached the line. He felt more than saw Jack step behind him, and then he felt Jack’s hands at his hips, encouraging him to turn. 

“Right foot forward rather than left,” Jack said, pulling Ianto in a half circle until he changed his stance so he was side-on to the target, his gun-hand leading. “Shift your weight so it’s sixty-forty, with a bit more on your back foot.”

Ianto closed his eyes, forcing himself to focus, mostly on not pressing his body back into Jack’s. Not necessary, really, since Jack’s chest was plastered against his back. But the warmth of the man’s touch was almost irresistible. He took a deep breath to steady himself, only to realize that he was completely surrounded by Jack’s scent.

It had been slow coming on, but Ianto had been… _noticing…_ Jack more than usual, since Christmas. Those first few weeks of January had been miserable, but when the potions had started working and Flat Holm had begun igniting a passion he thought had died, he began noticing, a bit more. Since Imbolc, it had become even more pronounced. It was confusing, but it was also thrilling. Ianto felt as though he was coming back to life.

And in many ways, he was.

Well, in many ways, except for one.

Ianto had spoken to Draco about his hibernating libido, but the Healer had not seemed concerned. Ianto was willing to bet the idiot would be plenty concerned if it was his dick that hadn’t got hard in more than nine months. But since Ianto’s other senses seemed to be slowly coming back online, his friend had assured him that the rest most likely would soon do so, as well.

The problem was that Ianto missed kisses and cuddles and the intimacy of sex, as much as the act itself. He missed that particular warmth and comfort. And he had begun wondering things that it was best for his sanity not to wonder about. Like what it would be like to kiss a man…

To kiss Jack…

Ianto opened his eyes and huffed out a breath and forced himself to focus on the gun.

Jack’s right hand was now cradling Ianto’s gun hand. His left hand wrapped around Ianto’s left wrist. “Make a fist,” he instructed, his breath whispering against Ianto’s neck. Jack encouraged Ianto’s hand to come up, placing his fist high on the center of his chest. “This is called the Power Point Stance.”

“Nothing to do with a slide presentation, I take it,” Ianto smirked, pleased that his sarcasm was withstanding the assault on his senses. He still had to force himself to keep from swaying back into Jack’s chest.

He felt Jack chuckle and closed his eyes again. “Rotate your fist. Palm up,” he guided Ianto’s hand, and the younger man tried to ignore the fact that he was practically wrapped in Jack’s embrace, now. “This makes your shoulder muscles more solid in the stance. Feel that?” 

Ianto’s gave a shaky nod, and Jack grinned. “This way, you can protect an injured or occupied off-side,” he patted the hand. “Or even throw a punch, if you need to.” He moved his left hand back to Ianto’s hip. “Now shoot.”

“Will you be glued to my back in the field like this, Sir?” Ianto snarked, snapping off a shot that was slightly left of center. He scowled at the target as if it had personally insulted him.

Jack chuckled again. He was pleased that Ianto wasn’t telling him to back off. Jack knew he was, at the very least, distracting the younger man. He felt the tension rolling off of his archivist, and he wondered if it was from the effort of not reacting. Most likely, it was still too soon for Ianto to be ready for anything more than some harmless flirtation, but he had been acting more and more distracted, lately, and Jack was a naturally curious man.

The problem was, the younger man was just too tempting. Particularly after that Imbolc ceremony. He’d been beautiful and unselfconscious and just a bit wicked, in not telling them more about the ceremony, beforehand. Jack had never wanted anyone badly enough to wait like this, but he was having a difficult time being patient, despite his best intentions for Ianto’s welfare. 

He shook his head and focused on the task at hand. “There will be distractions in the field, Ianto. You need to be able to function, despite what’s happening around you.”

Ianto wanted to point out that he was completely capable of functioning despite distractions, but his examples all involved a broom on a quidditch pitch, or avoiding jinxes and curses while dueling. He sighed. So much relevant information on his CV that just couldn’t be disclosed. His annoyance was enough to fuel his reply. “I doubt that the distractions in the field will include you blowing in my ear, Sir.”

He fired a half dozen shots into the paper target, taking the top of the Weevil’s head off with a tight grouping in the center of the creature’s head.

Jack chuckled again. He put his hands on Ianto’s hips and maneuvered him so he was squarely facing the targets. “Left foot a bit forward.” Jack’s left arm was around Ianto again. “Keep your left fist tight to your chest, like before. This is the Strong-Hand Retention stance.”

Jack reached out and grasped Ianto’s right wrist, pulling it back towards his body. “Lock the gun to the side of your body. This stance would be a good option if there are tentacles that might disarm you, with your gun out in front of you.”

“Aim will be for shite,” Ianto remarked. He caught himself again before he could lean back. 

“Just see if you can hit it.”

Ianto winged the Weevil in front of him.

“Shit.”

“What are you talking about? That’s a good shot. It’s tough to aim accurately, in this stance, so it’s all about feel.” Jack had not stepped away. Ianto could feel him smiling and turned his head. He almost bumped noses with the older man.

The air seemed to thicken around them, and Ianto’s breath caught in his chest. Jack’s face was just inches from his own. The older man’s eyes flickered to Ianto’s lips, and his mouth went dry. A desperate sort of loneliness lanced through him, and he recoiled a bit, but Jack held onto his hips. 

“Keep going,” Jack said softly.

Ianto swallowed, then gave a shaky nod. He turned back to the target, then frowned in concentration. He adjusted his hold on the pistol and fired. It hit the target in the torso.

Jack gave a whoop. “Well done!” he gripped Ianto by the shoulders and gave him a slight shake. Ianto quickly lowered the weapon, concerned it might go off accidentally, if he wasn’t careful.

A lot of that going around, at the moment.

“After you’ve had a chance to practice a bit more, we’ll do a recertification to take your actual abilities into consideration,” Jack smiled.

Ianto stepped to the table, unloading the weapon and preparing to clean them all. Jack put a hand on his arm.

“You’re not done, yet.”

Ianto quirked an eyebrow, and Jack grabbed a Heckler & Koch G36C from the table behind him.

“An assault rifle, Jack?”

“Humor me,” Jack handed it to him.

Ianto pushed away unpleasant memories and emptied the clip in seconds on full auto. He turned to hand the thing back to Jack, only to be handed a Colt M4A1 Carbine.

“Not on full auto,” Jack instructed. “I want to see you hit each target a couple of times, quick bursts, with fast transitions from target to target.”

Ianto was beginning to miss the handgun instruction.

Once he was done with the carbine, he set it on the table. 

“Care for a challenge?” Jack grinned, holding up an Arctic Warfare Magnum.

Ianto reared back but quickly took himself in hand. He crossed his arms over his chest, and his face became an expressionless mask. But Jack had seen that initial reaction, and he sensed something almost desperate beneath Ianto’s carefully constructed calm. “I’ll not be Torchwood’s sniper,” Ianto gritted and made to step around Jack and leave, having no intention of even touching the fucking thing.

“Ianto,” Jack quickly put the weapon away. “Not a job requirement,” he said, frowning. “Hey,” he reached out, brushing his hand down Ianto’s arm, as he had done before. “Let’s clean these and then go grab some lunch. Get out of here and get some fresh air, and bring back takeaway for the others.”

Ianto knew Jack wanted him to talk about the reaction he’d just had, but he had no intention of doing that. 

But he could have lunch.

He gave a quick nod and turned back to the table. Jack was soon distracted as nimble, elegant fingers worked quickly to dismantle, clean, and reassemble each weapon with a speed that showed a long acquaintance with such tasks.

Jack found it difficult to keep his word in not asking Ianto to confide in him.

***

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for everyone who was looking forward to the training as tensions *ahem* rise between Jack and Ianto. But I really needed it to be actual training. (That scene with Gwen is ridiculous - no wonder her gun handling is amateurish, particularly in Countrycide. But I'm not here to pick on Gwen, really.) So Jack's training, while meant to distract, also has purpose. And the stances are legitimate. (I researched them, and everything. :D)
> 
> The Arctic Warfare Magnum is a sniper rifle used by the British armed forces (and therefore UNIT). It's the same rifle that Ianto used during the Battle of Hogwarts. (Did I mention that the facility he pilfered it from was UNIT? Ha.)
> 
> I know a bit about guns, but I'm no gun nut. But the SIG P320 is a good looking piece, aesthetically. And Ianto prefers the compact weapons because they don't mess as much with the lines of his suits. Priorities, right? :D (Actually, don't want it to seem like he's being silly, here. He's just ticked all the boxes. It's a good looking gun, it's compact, high quality manufacturer, and he clicked with it, when shooting - hence the grin.)


End file.
